The Changing Of The Seasons
by bibesties
Summary: Remus Lupin loves October and everything it brings: a multitude of orange hues, spiced sweets, crackling fires and knitted clothes. Remus Lupin loves being able to enjoy all the wondrous things Hogwarts has to offer. Remus Lupin thinks he may very well love Sirius Black, too. Short fic, not much wolfstar, but still a sweet little fic of Remus' thoughts about autumn.


**Apologies in advance to anyone reading who uses American English, though seeing as Remus is from the UK, he would use the word autumn anyway!**

**I have no idea when exactly I wrote this, I think it was early this morning when I wasn't properly awake? **

**Sometimes you just have to write I suppose, so this happened!**

**I've been thinking recently of all the things I like about this season, and everything eventually fitted itself nicely into this descriptive fic.**

**Oh, and it's set at somepoint during Hogwarts, around second year I'd like to think, when they're all quite young.**

**Harry Potter still is not mine, and neither is Remus Lupin, though I hope Jo doesn't mind me occasionally shouting 'MY SON' when I think of him.**

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><p>The month of October has arrived.<p>

Remus very much likes October, he thinks that if he ever thought hard about it and made a list of pros and cons, he would find that it is his favourite month. September is too close to summer and generally contains more heat than he'd like and not enough brown on the leaves. November makes him think of things getting cold and dark, but October, now that month is perfect, nestled between months of uncertain weather and temperatures, firmly part of autumn.

It makes him think of orange, a dark orange, burnt like the sunset and dead leaves and campfires. When he rolls the name around on his tongue he can almost taste the hard toffee and feel a soothing, warm drink slipping down his throat.

October brings fierce winds that make his fingertips turn freezing so that he can't feel his face, though he knows his cheeks and the end of his nose are numb and cold too. It makes things get battered around in the breeze, paper bags and creaking signs and more brown leaves than he can be bothered to count.

It marks the arrival of his favourite flavours. Maple syrup and bitter chocolate and spices, dark browns and reds being mixed into ingredients like a little bit of autumn is being added. There aren't many things, he thinks, that he enjoys more than nibbling doughy cinnamon biscuits as he sits high up in the Quidditch stands, clutching a flask of steaming tea and taking photos of the changing scenery.

He loves the mornings in autumn: the still, cold air and the bright sunlight that shines through it, its warmth not quite reaching the castle. He loves the fog and the evening sunshine and the light rain and the heavy downpours. He loves the nighttime, the orange glow of lights reflected in inky black puddles and the bright white of the moon shining on the surface of the lake.

The moon makes him feel uncertain, as though it's always watching him, but also powerful in a way he doesn't understand, and he thinks he'll never quite figure out how he feels about it. It is beautiful though, separate from the warm yellow lights within the castle, a glowing orb that stands out against the dark sky.

Sometimes he goes out for walks in the night, just after the sky has turned dark, because it's quiet and because it's October and because he can. Even though his friends say he's one of the clumsiest people they've ever met, Remus does have a proclivity for sneaking around unnoticed. He enjoys the preparation - finding his cosiest scarf and coat and tucking his trousers into his socks and then hiding under an umbrella as he squelches through the grounds.

The rain dripping onto his old, black umbrella makes him think of stars, when he seeks shelter under an alcove in the courtyard and moves it down from above his head. The moonlight shines brightly on the raindrops and makes it seem as though the droplets are twinkling.

Remus thinks it is magical, truly filled with wonder. He has come to the conclusion that there are two meanings for magical, the literal sense, when casting spells and such, and the descriptive sense, when he's filled with awe. A lot of people in the magical world have combined the two, but he likes the separate them, remind himself that the world outside of magic can still be amazing too.

That isn't to say that being part of this incredible world and being at Hogwarts doesn't improve October more than he ever thought it could be improved.

He now experiences the delights of homemade apple juice and cauldrons of soup and crispy pumpkin pasties at dinner time every autumn, which definitely enhances his experience. The soft light of the candles and lanterns make him feel as though he's seeing the warm glow he feels inside when October has begun. Hogwarts offers him extravagant halloween decorations and pumpkin patches and cold corridors that make him wrap up in his cloak, and he takes them all happily.

Remus likes the delight that spreads through the castle at the warming meals and oncoming celebrations and autumnal atmosphere. Everyone seems a lot more cheerful, even if the weather becomes a little more gloomy, and he hopes that he isn't alone in enjoying the wet leaves and thrilling thunderstorms.

He is very glad to be a Gryffindor at this time of the year. There's warm, red hues everywhere, and inviting armchairs and knitted blankets, and the roaring fire, near which he spends most of his evenings. The fire is the centre of the common room at this time of year, with students facing towards its warmth - sometimes trying to toast bread and marshmallows on it - but mostly simply sitting and enjoying the small crackling noises and heat.

This house has also given him his friends, friends who share their caramel sweets with him and help him find his missing hat and who join him by the fireside simply because they know how much he likes having some company. James somehow procures some of his favourite apricot jam for him to have with his breakfast, and Peter tells him tales he learnt from his grandmother about ghouls and halloween traditions.

And Sirius, well, Sirius just is.

He gives without taking, he cares for his friends fiercely and shares his excitement with anyone who will listen. He has some worse qualities, yes, but he has so many more good ones, and when October arrives, so does a constantly cheerful Sirius, in all his exuberant glory.

If Remus loves October, then the other is most definitely in second place. Everywhere Remus turns he tends to find Sirius laughing gleefully at a scary story a ghost told him, or helping himself to his third gingerbread biscuit, or sticking a leaf into Remus' hair, just because it's the same golden colour. His shorter friend waits for him before they all run off outside, as if sensing Remus' excitement and knowing that he doesn't enjoy being the last to leave. He piles both of their plates high with roast chicken and squash and parsnips and carrots before Remus has even had a chance to sit down.

He pulls a face at the burgundy gloves he's been sent by a distant relative and thrusts them in Remus' hands instead, who knows that Sirius is aware if how his fingers poke through the holes of his own worn gloves, and his insides squeeze gratefully.

If Remus loves October, then how he feels for Sirius is simply indescribable.


End file.
